Heart of the Horsefly.

The

Transition

I'm searching for you.
I forgave my eyes and set them away.
Choosing to walk bare 

I set off staving the walls mindful
Of the thorns in my feet.
The trek will bring pain
And steal the warmth from my skin
While the scars will whisper 

How I've journeyed so far.

Kill me

Bless me father for I have sinned.

I beg you take my life, If you feel Its time.
So I don't have to see tomorrow.
So I don't have to fall.
So I don't have to feel.
Let down my friends.
Let down you.

Forgive me for being weak,
Having gone astray.

Choosing to be who I am

I yelled at mother.

I come down looking for food.

Everything she asks is pointless.

Shell ask a thousand questions and won't hear a single answer I say.

After twenty minutes of being around her, I ask if the cups in the dishwasher are clean. She says are the people in the where heady? She's not looking towards me, not seeing what I'm doing with my hand holding a cup. Carelessly walking around doing everything she can but listen to me. I ask again.

ARE THE CUPS CLEAN.

she becomes aware I'm pissed. And scoffs at me.

She just comes over my shoulder and starts grabbing my food.

She begins tearing at my meat trying to get the something out, I ask

Are you hungry? (calmly)

No.

Is that for tita lan? (calmly)

No yeah I'm just -(laughing)

What are you doing? (Sternly)

I'm going to eat. (Laughing)

I just asked you if you were hungry and you said no. Is she goin- (confused and irritated)

(Sternly) my hands are clean.

What.
I don't fucking care if you want the food, i just was trying to find out why you're touching my food (pissed)

I'm hungry. (Barely paying attention)

I KNOW.

Are you done eating?

No. Do you even know what I'm saying right now?

Your irritable, *leaves the room*

Fucking STOP BEING so FUCKING LAZY learn to FUCKING speak SPEAK English AND ACTUALLY LISTEN TO WHAT I'M SAYING.

I almost through a glass against the wall speaking to my mother.

A firework, without the flash.

I couldn't care less.
About the clothes on my back.
That I've felt love.
The touch of a woman.

All I can think about,
Is me. Me. Me. Me.

The one who only likes people
For the first few moments,
Before he gets to know them.

That feels he's special,
That no one is like me.

Who's happy after a meal,
But hates the food he is given.

Who believes he'll never surmount to value
Yet wants to defy the masses.

Mental note

Shel Silverstein. Masks.

I'd tell them
I'm not going to tell you to be who you are and be proud.
I'm not going to say be your self and show everyone what you are.

Little flower

I'm not alike the crowd passing you by.
I learned long ago to see with my mind
Than through the eyes of visions and dreams.
Everyone's story is always behind a cover.
And I'm eager to embrace your lines
Finger through your pages in sincerity.

Coffee

Get me high.

I'm finally working. I'm in a drug rehabilitation center.

There a load of crazies so I guess I'm where I belong.

Apathy and loss are attractive especially when you're successful. The sight is a window to where patients can truly make a connection

This writing is god awful.

I'm finding I'm bipolar. At times I'm outgoing other times you'd have to stab me to get a word out.

I contemplated if I'm capable of love. I honestly don't know anymore.

Surprise.

Is it disparity or clarity?
I do not know.
I just hope I don't hurt someone again.

Just cant stand.

I fucking lost it on my mother.

Shut up.
Shut up.
SHUT UP.
DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?

I need a fucking therapist.
I was once teeming with motivation.
Now I find it incredibly hard to do anything more then 60 seconds.

I feel no self gratification in anything I do. I feel like breaking something. I'm terrified of showing myself around others. But I'm myself when I'm outside.

I'm constantly isolated in this house and I think it might be getting to me. I've been here three days and I've only seen people here for less then four hours total. I am here constantly.

I need to read a book. But I couldn't careless about it. Its as if my body is struggling to find an out for this stress. Its consuming me, coursing through me. The only solace it can find is in absence of action. I cannot expend myself in futile actions because I feel I'm ever so close to just fucking going bat shit if something "hurts my feelings."

Ending that sentence was rather odd. I'm afraid of something "hurting my feelings." I don't understand that. I'm finding its hard to comprehend what I just wrote. Is this my lack of a short term memory? I don't know what could "hurt my feelings."

I need happiness.

Something in me changed while writing this.

Therapist

Help.
Me.

Following

What makes you happy.

I had my first day of orientation this morning as a nurse. It's been a fucking journey to get to this point.

Nothing is certain.
Nothing is concrete.

Expression is beautiful because it is human.

I found myself blankly staring at several comments people told me today. My old roomate told me his routine and how much weight he was lifting. I couldn't careless. My cousin told me about a position he was applying for and tried to describe the extent of how much responsibility he would have. "I'd be a manager, coordinator, floor surveyor, and i'd have to organize shifts." A manager does what in your field? a coordinator does what? a floor surveyor? I cannot relate to these statements. I have no clue at what difficulty these tasks are. I have nothing to comment about that which I don't know.